by Jake Parent
The entire fucking world is so corrupt. Why do I even try?
She lit a cigarette, but it wasn’t enough.
Cristina felt a sudden and distinct desire to get high.
Her old self spoke with a gentle assertiveness.
Do something to take the pain away, Cristina. Anything. You deserve it. Just a beer, Cristina. Maybe a little weed. A bump of crystal. A few pills. And why not, Cristina? These rich assholes are going to take away everything you have anyway. Why not go out in a blaze of glory?
Then she heard another voice in her head.
Michelle’s.
“Resentments are like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies.”
Cristina hated 12-step sayings with a passion. People in those rooms were always rattling them off in this stupid, cheerful way. As if they just invented them. As if they hadn’t already been said ten-thousand-million times before. She would have hated them even more if some of them didn’t make so much sense.
Her tears weakened. A swell of resolve rose up inside her.
She wasn’t going to let that asshole win. Not now. Not ever. If he wanted to waste his money trying to screw her over, that was fine. She would annihilate him.
19
Cristina was putting on makeup, something she hadn’t done since leaving Anthony. He’d always demanded that she get dolled up. Every day. Even if they weren’t going anywhere. Because of him, she’d come to hate the whole ritual with a passion.
Now she was doing it to spite him. Every dab of foundation, every stroke of lipstick, every pin slipped into her hair.
She was putting on the finishing touches when Anise called.
“Hi, my beautiful,” Cristina said, switching the phone to speaker and setting it on the back of the toilet while she brushed her eyelashes. “How’s Aba’s?
Anise told her about going to the park with Tío Alberto, where she jumped off the swings and played princesses with a girl named Carolina. She was six. And then Cristina learned that Anise’s teacher, Mrs. Dulce, had given her the “Citizen of the Week” award because she helped other kids practice drawing.
“That’s my smart, talented girl. I’m so proud of you!”
Without comment about the praise, Anise continued, recalling several adventures she had with Rico, Aba’s pet chihuahua. The dog had been alive as long as Cristina could remember. He hated everyone. Even Aba herself. But he loved Anise. To the point he even let her dress him up in doll’s clothing, sitting patiently on his side panting while she painted his toenails.
At the end of the call, which, as always, came too soon, Cristina told her daughter that she loved her and would see her tomorrow.
“Mamma, I wish I could be with you right now.”
“Me too, chica. Me too. But we’ll be together after you sleep tonight and go to school one more time. And pretty soon, you’ll get to stay here in your new room all the time, OK?”
There was a pause. The longer it went on, the closer Cristina’s freshly-applied mascara came to running down her face.
“OK, mamma,” Anise finally said. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby,”
After two air-kisses toward the phone, Cristina ended the call.
Holding her chin high, she stared into the mirror, determined to be happy.
***
Cristina took one last look at her reflection in the Civic’s window.
It had taken her half the afternoon to decide what to wear.
Despite the fact she’d sported nothing but t-shirts and jeans for the past year, she did own a rather extensive wardrobe. In addition to full-makeup every day, Anthony had also insisted she dress sexy, and he provided her the clothes to do it.
He was an asshole, but a rich one.
After pulling out most of what she’d crammed unceremoniously into her new closet, she finally decided to go with a black leather miniskirt on the bottom. It would show her scars to the whole world, but she didn’t care. Not anymore. Like the rest of her past, she was ready to own it.
To complement the skirt, she chose a white halter-top that tightly wrapped around what little of her boobs it actually covered, lifting and squeezing together the rest.
Running perfectly between the halter and the skirt was a pencil-thin strip of light-brown skin.
Not knowing what they would be doing, she wore a pair of cute black-leather flats, with straps that crisscrossed up her ankles.
Her thick, long hair was curled and up, tied with a red bandanna that matched the color of the roses on her arm and shoulder.
Standing next to the car, admiring how her own body curved from head to toe, smelling the spicy musk of her perfume, she felt nothing but fierce confidence.
It was still too warm for the black leather jacket, so she held it over her shoulder with two fingers. With a flick of her wrist, she opened a pair of white-rimmed sunglasses and slid them onto her face. They sat perfectly on her high cheekbones.
Last but not least, she smacked her plump, crimson-coated lips in a kiss to her own reflection.
Having parked near the amusement park, she had a few blocks to walk to get to Casey’s shop. She strolled casually down the sidewalk, hips swaying back and forth under the tight black leather.
The late sun cast a golden hue across the world.
There seemed to be a lot of people out and about for a Thursday afternoon, and all of them looked happy. A number of teams played volleyball on the beach across the street, near where Cristina and Anise had been the previous weekend. Other people floated frisbees or kicked soccer balls. Some were just kicking back, soaking in the last sunshine of the day. A group of hoodie-clad guys and gals hauling boxes of wood had arrived to claim one of the fire pits poking out from the sand at regular intervals along the beach. There were even a few brave souls still surfing the frigid water. Down the block, couples and families made their way out onto the pier to grab dinner and catch the sunset.
Every guy Cristina passed on the sidewalk – and some of the girls, too – had nearly identical reactions. First, eyes locked on. Then, as she got closer, necks craned and twisted, as if trying to see something off in the distance behind her. Finally, as she passed, heads swung back over shoulders to savor every moment in the presence of the short Latina bombshell confidently making her way down the street.
Nobody so much as glanced at her scars.
Cristina couldn’t help but smile.
Still got it, mamma. Still got it.
Bula’s Surf Shop was across the street from the entrance to the pier. The store was one of many establishments in a long line of places leading down the block toward the amusement park. Many of these shops looked almost identical, selling similar types of beach-related items, everything from sunscreen to towels. And just about all of them had the same, somewhat cheesy, Pleasure Point branded merchandise in the windows: sweatshirts, t-shirts, hats, magnets, coffee mugs. Scattered into the mix was an occasional hamburger joint, ice cream place, and even a taquería Cristina thought looked like it could be pretty good.
She arrived at the store a few minutes before 6:30.
Bula’s seemed to be one of the more popular spots on the block. A steady stream of locals and tourists, young and old, streamed in and out of its door.
Instead of Pleasure Point swag, the windows of Bula’s were full of surfboards, wetsuits, and something called “Sex Wax,” which made Cristina’s sculpted eyebrows curl.
A chalkboard sign on the sidewalk advertised surfing lessons. All Ages Welcome!!!
Three long-haired teenage boys, all wearing Bula’s hoodies, awkwardly bumped into one another as they exited the store, their brains seeming to malfunction in the presence of Cristina’s bulging cleavage and short skirt.
She smiled patiently as they fought over the privilege of holding the door for her.
The store had a warm, positive feel to it. Reggae played over the loudspeaker, and there was no shortage of happy conversation between customers browsing racks of
clothes and equipment.
Working the register behind the counter were two good-looking young women. One blond and one brunette. Their flow of customers was steady, but neither of them seemed rushed.
Not seeing Casey anywhere, Cristina walked around the store looking at clothes. Most of the merchandise was for men, but there were a few cute Bula’s Surf Shop tank tops she thought she could see herself wearing.
After a few minutes, she made her way to the counter and waited.
Eventually the brunette came casually walking over.
“Hi there,” she said. “What can I do for you?”
“Hi, I’m here to see Casey.”
The girl’s face lit up. She stuck out a hand.
“You must be Cristina. I’m Katlyn. I have strict orders to treat you well when you arrive. Glad to meet you.”
The two shook hands.
Katlyn then turned over her shoulder and shouted, “Yo, boss! Your hot-ass date’s here!”
Cristina was glad she’d put on enough makeup to keep anyone from seeing her blush.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Oh, no problem. We like to embarrass him whenever we can. You need anything? Glass of water? Soda? Kombucha?”
“I’m cool. Thanks though.”
“Sweet. Well, go easy on the poor guy tonight. Catch ya later.”
Katlyn put two thumbs in the air and went back to helping customers.
Cristina was bobbing her head to a mellow Bob Marley jam about being loved when Casey popped out from behind a black curtain. Stacked in his tattooed arms was a tower of shoe boxes. In his mouth, he carried a sheet of paper.
He raised his eyebrows toward her in greeting as he walked by.
She parted her lips, eyes twinkling with excitement.
After dumping the boxes and handing the paper to Katlyn, Casey walked back to where Cristina stood. He put both of his palms on the counter and leaned forward, slightly grinning from under a mesh Bula’s Surf Shop hat.
Cristina felt a tingle bubble up in the pit of her stomach as she tried to play it cool.
“Uh, hello there, dude,” she said in her best surfer voice. “I’m here to buy some of your Sex Wax.”
He straightened his back, chest swelling under a black Bula’s t-shirt.
“Whatever you need, ma’am,” he said, grabbing a bar of the stuff from a display rack. He held it in the air like a spokesmodel. “Bula’s Surf Shop is the official store for all your sex-waxing needs.”
They both laughed.
A good start, she thought.
He walked around the counter and they hugged. He smelled like coconut sunscreen. The top of her head came perfectly to the center of his chest. It wasn’t a long embrace, and part of Cristina thought she wouldn’t mind being in those powerful arms a bit longer.
When he pulled away, Casey’s face broke slightly from the stoicism that seemed to be its default setting. He rubbed the stubble on his cheeks with one hand as he admired her for a moment, seeming genuinely impressed.
“Wow, you look amazing,” he said. Tugging on his shirt, he added, “I feel a bit underdressed.”
“It’s cool,” she answered. “I’ll make us both look good.”
“No doubt,” he agreed. “Well, I feel kinda bad, but I don’t have much planned. I was hoping we could grab some food, and then walk down to The Wharf. Go on some rides. Walk around. Nothing too crazy.”
“I’m down. As long as we can hit up that taquería on the way.”
“Done deal.”
He grabbed his own leather jacket from behind the counter, checked for keys and wallet. They were about to leave the store when he stopped.
“I almost forgot . . .” He went back around the counter, reached underneath it, and produced a single long-stem rose. Minus the bloody thorns, it looked remarkably like the two that were permanently inked onto his neck, and the ones on Cristina’s arm.
“Aww,” she said, cheeks again warming underneath her makeup. “It’s beautiful. You’re so sweet. Thanks.”
She slipped the flower from his fingers.
Standing on the tips of her toes, she kissed him softly on the cheek, leaving behind a light crimson imprint of her lips.
“Oh whoops,” she said, wiping it away with her wrist. “Sorry about that.”
“Hey,” he said, somewhat seriously. “I make it a personal policy never to be offended when a beautiful woman kisses me.”
“Good. Now, can we go get a burrito?”
Before they left, she threaded the rose through the bandana holding her hair in place.
Casey shot a peace sign to his staff.
“Be good,” he told them as he slid on a sleek pair of dark Oakley sunglasses.
Together, he and Cristina walked into the light of the setting California sun.
20
Cristina felt like a celebrity from the moment they hit the sidewalk.
Every other person they passed offered a casual, “What’s up, Casey?”
Or whispered to their friends, “Is that who I think it is?”
To his credit, her date handled it all in stride. He acknowledged each person with a wave and a smile, or simply a cool jerk of his chin.
“Wow,” Cristina said after about half a block. “You’re kind of a big deal.”
He shrugged.
“I’ve lived here my whole life. It’s a small town.”
She was tempted to hold his arm as they walked, but decided to wait, play things cool. She was satisfied to stroll beside him. His strapping body made her feel small but safe.
The setting sun had obliterated the blue sky, replacing it with reds and pinks and oranges. The breeze coming off the water was cold enough that Cristina put on her jacket, at the same time feeling a surge of energy from the crisp air hitting her cheeks.
Dinner was delicious.
They both ordered al pastor burritos and horchata. Everyone behind the counter knew Casey and stopped what they were doing to say hi. The woman working the register said something to Cristina in Spanish. She didn’t understand. Besides a few slang words here and there, her Spanish skills were basically nonexistent.
But she definitely knew good Mexican food. And her initial instinct about the taquería was confirmed. She was especially impressed with the fact they didn’t have any Corona signs hanging on the wall.
“Real Mexicans drink Bud Light,” she declared proudly while dripping Tapatío onto a huge burrito. “This place is legit.”
Conversation with Casey was easy, despite the fact they didn’t really talk about much of anything in particular. She teased him about being so popular, and he teased her about being in a gang because of her bandana. She said he was a gringo when he didn’t put any hot sauce on his burrito, and he pretended like he was going to get up and leave when she let out a small burp.
After dinner, the two walked the rest of the way to the amusement park.
The sky was now purple-grey, on its way toward night.
Coming through the gates, they passed by the carousel. Cristina barely even thought of the red-nosed creep she’d encountered there, remembering instead Anise’s smile atop her pink horse.
Inside the park, there were fewer people who acknowledged Casey. More tourists, Cristina figured. Although he still had to stop every so often to sign a hat or high-five a shaggy teenager holding a skateboard.
Without Anise in tow, Cristina and Casey were able to go on all the rides she’d previously skipped. They started with a front-row seat on a wooden roller coaster called The Big Dip. Riding with hands high in the air, Cristina screamed her head off each time they hit another drop.
They both cracked up when they saw the TV monitor outside the exit turnstile. Next to Casey’s calm grin, Cristina’s face was twisted in joyful horror. Although she playfully pleaded with him not to, he bought a copy of the photo and slid it into his back pocket.
“That’s a keeper,” he said with a wink.
Next, they hit the bumper cars.
<
br /> “You want to ride together?” he asked.
“No thanks. I don’t need a chauffeur.”
She proved it by slamming him into the wall, spinning his car around, leaving him facing the wrong way. She laughed a bit evilly and flipped him off.
After bumper cars, Cristina almost lost her burrito on the Pirate Ship.
“Oh wow,” she said as they walked down the exit ramp. “I could taste pork on that one. How about a break?”
To mellow out, they took a ride in the Sky Buckets.
Snuggled into a two-person chairlift, casually cruising above the length of the park, they watched the sandy beach glow in the moonlight, all the way down to the pier where they’d met.
Cristina heard strange noises coming from that direction, something like a pack of hungry dogs barking.
“What the hell is that?” Cristina asked.
“Calm down, killer. It’s just the sea lions.”
“Yah? Sounds like someone getting freakin’ murdered.”
“Have you been out there yet?”
“No. Is it safe? That thing kind of looks like it’s going to fall down.”
He stared at her like she was crazy. “That pier is so sturdy. It’ll probably be here long after you and I are both dead.”
She looked at him skeptically and then said, “Alright, I’m down.”
Cristina was having so much fun, she probably would have gone just about anywhere.
They spent the rest of the Sky Bucket ride in silence. At one point, Cristina got the chills and shivered. Without looking, Casey put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.
21
A small crowd, mostly couples, stood gathered around a wooden guardrail near the end of the pier.
Cristina and Casey made their way forward to look down through a square cutout at the sea lions. Almost all the burly creatures lay sleeping, sprawled out on platforms built especially for them. A few were awake, barking for the others to make room, or at the strange, hairless apes above.